And I don't want to feel so all alone ...

On the platform there were two groups of nare-do-wells, ruffians, people we referred to in high school as "heads" and not due to their higher than average IQs. I assume to this day that it was short for "pot-head" but I never was sure. Kris' school had the same group and called them the "loungers”. Neither one is particularly descriptive. Mine sounds like we were calling them “smart” and her’s sounds like they were just generically “lazy”.

Anyway you know these guys 16-17 years old, greasy hair, loose fitting clothes, hoodies, skateboard shoes, hat askew, 3-6 month shadow you know, rebels without a clue. But what really caught my attention was how organized they were. Wow if we had cell phones when I was in HS we would have been in much more trouble than we already were. One group waited for their third member and even talked him in to the station from wherever he was prior. Once there, he walked down the rail to the opposite end of he platform (no third rail here it's all overhead) right before the train arrived. They boarded the first car and I took my seat with my now repaired front wheel in the bike car of the second.

I know the ticket checkers now and they smile at me as I show my ticket. It's gray and dark at 4:54 I hope I make it home before the rain starts.

Well we will see if the car search goes off this weekend. Let you know Monday.

On the iPhone, "Things to do in Denver When You're Dead" by Warren Zevon

"Home is just a place to hang your head. And dream up things to do in Denver when you're dead."

Every day I get in the queue ...

Here's the run down of the content of my car this morning. Guy in urban camoflage bucket hat. Guy in "dork" hat and Sharks jacket. ("dork" hat is one with ear flaps.). Guy in Mercury News baseball hat tapping his toes to unheard mp3s. Tweaked out looking woman who is quickly looking from side to side. She's not talking to herself so I assume it's a "good day". Woman who has been applying makeup for the last 20 minutes. I am not one to judge but she doesn't look any different.

A couple just got on dressed like it's the arctic. People here are very odd when it comes to temperature, if it ever froze and stayed frozen, for say 36 hours, I would expect to see perfectly normal people walking around wearing sleeping bags. I would have my three coats on as well but only to be sure that the weather doesn't suddenly change and become 65 degrees and cloudy or 87 and dry or totally weird people out by going to 37 with sleet and black ice patches on El Camino Real.

iPhone says "Married with Children" by Oasis

"There's no need for you to say you're sorry, goodbye I'm going home."

Don't think twice it's ...

I have this awesome crazy extended family. Top to bottom youngest to oldest mine and my in laws are two fabulously freaky groups. And I say this now because I think of them so often and I realize how my interactions with them have impacted who I am and what I believe and how I respond to things. I want them all to know that Valentines day is a day that I chose to celebrate them.

Now, on to the train. Nothing. Thursday and everyone appears as tired as me. My lack of two-wheeler has put me in a regular seat with little in the way of people watching fodder. I was able to go to a bike shop directly across the street from work an got a patch kit and two new inner tubes. I did not get a pump which I will need if I am to ever ride again. Looked at helmets, fenders (to avoid water splashes) and street tires. Realizing now how much dinero I could drop just messing around with the bike. Repair stand, light, computer, cleaning, degreasing, chain tools I have a reasonable story (need) for each and every one. But here is the good part, I think I have to buckle my belt one more notch already. Problem is, I still weigh the same so some how weight has shifted from my middle to, I am guessing, my legs or ass. Which is not concerning unless it continues and I end up all Lou Ferigno from the waist down. It'll be like someone superglued Waldo on top of the Michelin man.

iPhone says, "Sheep go to Heaven" by Cake

Hasta mañana.

One flat tire and walk later ....

Ah well the good can't last forever and I awoke to a flat front and no pump left alive in my garage so off I set on foot. Made the same train that I always make, the 7:55, and the day was back to normal.

Only guy with a bike on the train was wearing a pair of Lugs boots. You know the ones, they look like a pair of Hush Puppies did it with a pair of Timberland work boots. And when I say Timberland I don't mean all the incarnations of shoe that now call themselves Timberland. I mean those tall, almost yellow, tan work boots that I so wanted in high school. But back to the guy. It's wet out and these boots had a small spot on them. Now these shoes are a source of pride for the wearer so I had to ask myself, "Does he care?". Are these some sort of hand me down or thrift purchase? He's on the train so he either spent all his money on the shows and can't afford a car now or he has so much money and a conscience about such things that he'll go home tonight and toss them in his gold plated "today's shoes" garbage pail and pick a new pair for tomorrow. Either way I would have a pair of "rain shoes" and keep the good ones in my pack or in my desk at work.

The iPhone is mocking me this morning having chosen " Thousand Dollar Car" by the Bottle Rockets both yesterday on the ride home and this morning. Randomizing 1400 songs should yield a more ... Random play list don't you think?

"Thousand dollar car's life was through, 'bout 50 thousand miles for it got to you. Oh why did I ever buy, a thousand dollar car?"

Work hard y'all. See you on the return trip.

Why yes, yes I am in charge here

If you stand on a train platform with a bicycle it becomes obvious to others that you are someone who knows something. "Which way are you going?", was this stranger's question.

"North", I obviously knew what I was talking about.

"Is that Winchester?", was the reply.

"That train just left", oh yeah I am the boss here.

"How long til the next one?"

"15 minutes," I made it sound like I had just updated the main train schedule that day so I knew better than any man alive when the next one was due.

He nodded approvingly to my superior mad rail skillz and he was gone. Another satisfied VTA client.

Now to the 51min mailbag. John B in Oakland asks about binge drinking in the early 80's. Yes, I left a good part of my liver at Red's too. Honestly, all I remember is sitting at a table of 4 and having one person go to the bar with $2 and return with 4 shots. Thanks for dislodging that memory. Our second letter comes from a Paul Q in Seattle. PQ wants to know if it's only 13 miles door to door why I don't just bike the whole way. I can honestly answer that it is really the equipment's fault. Especially the knees, ankles and lower back. If I stay sans-voiture too long I may just be able to pull that off. I will need some road tires and a helmet that fits and doesn't look like I am wearing a salad bowl and possibly some cycle specific shoe and maybe 25 less pounds but it's doable.

iPhone says, "Rubberband Man" by the Spinners, "Everything he does seems to turn out right."

Dork

Someone had written "Dork" on the inside of the far track at my beloved Reamwood and I noticed it this morning. A dual-meaning word I took it to infer that I, the rider, was somehow less of a person than the average due to a need to ride the light rail. While that might be the writer's intent, my household uses the term like "geek", "nerd" or "lovable dimwit". I am a dork for Buckeye football, US Soccer (vs. Mexico live from Columbus TONIGHT) or my kids. I am a dork when I talk about the Mac OS, when I buy "my kind of stuff" on ebay or when I focus on a single song for weeks at a time (Just like Tom Thumbs Blues - Neil Young at Bob Dylan's 30th Anniversary Concert). But mostly I'm a dork when I think about my wife, she's the one who calls me dork when she is happy with my uniqueness and can't find any normal way of describing her feelings. See, you can't call yourself a dork. You need someone willing and able to do it for/to you. So thanks anonymous-paint-pen dude/dudette you gave me a reason to love my life, my family and my innate dorkyness.

On the iPhone: "Sparks are Gonna Fly" - Catherine Wheel

Angry? Not so much angry as ready for two-fers

Picked up two very loud young women, remember I am 43 and young is relative, early on the trip home who once off their phone began talking about "$2 Tuesday" at some local SJ watering hole. Which of course got me thinking about "Twofer Tuesday's" at Red's Filling Station way back in Oneonta and 10 cent wings at BW3 in Columbus (go bucks). Which in turn reminded me of recent reports of a chicken wing shortage. Wings were the thrown away toy for so long now they are a sought after and treasured piece of poultry. Each chicken in existence has only 2! Think of that, for every basket of 18, nine chickens had to walk their way to heaven. This is an example of what Kris refers to as my Mac OS mind. Soon as you click on one folder you open it and then you can access what's inside. May not be what you want but it's all you have.

So the young ladies are back on the phone and I overhear this, "Dude, make her do her homework. Why can't you be the father for a change?". So I am either, much older than I had previously calculated or 2 year-olds are getting way too much take-home work at the "Rock-a-Bye" daycare center and think-tank.

I have always reveled in observation of others in their natural habitat and the train is a great place to do just that. Interestingly the number of F-bombs per minute has risen recently to the point that I have decided never to mess with either of those "young ladies".

Wow my first ticket check! 6 rides in and I was just asked for my ticket for the first time. Oddly my two "observees" bolted the train when asked for theirs. Huh.

Ah well, Matthew Sweet needs some Divine Intervention in my ears right now so I'll write again later. Good night all.

Day 2 - I miss my first train

Took a few extra minutes this morning as Kris wanted to be sure I was adequately fueled for the ride. Watched the train pass by while still 2-3 minutes away. First time on the 7:55 which means I won't get to the office until after 9. Ah well live and learn is what my mom said, often. Lots more people alive at this time in the morn. Sun is shinning as I glide by eBay north campus, under 101 and towards DT SJ.

Made several equipment changes today. Sweatshirt on under the jacket and a company logoed red rubber band around the right pant cuff. But don't worry it's not that which makes me look bad. No that is reserved for Kris' circa 1990 bike helmet. Makes me look like Thomas Magnum competing in the Iron Man, from the head up anyway.

Song on iPhone: I'm a man - Muddy Waters at The Band's Last Waltz
Next song on iPhone: Skinhead on the MBTA - Dropkick Murphys

And with Clapton and Robbie Roberson dueling leads to "Further on up the Road" I will sign off. Have a great day.

First Day on the 902

"How do you get to Walnut Creek?” was my inauguration into the wonders of public transportation. It's February in Northern California so a person in a tank top in the middle of the afternoon isn’t too unexpected. But it was cold out. I mean that sort of overcast grey that comes after a full 24 hours of rain with a constant 15 mph wind. She had a single red rose wrapped in a paper towel and she was on the VTA light rail 902 that runs from Campbell to Mountain View. Walnut Creek? Damn that’s Bart/Amtrak territory some 40 miles on the other side of the bay. She was not in for a good evening if that is really where she wanted to go.

So, why me? Why here? What gives? Well, due to an uninsured driver who rear-ended and totaled my 1999 Subaru Outback, I am currently stuck with my 14 year old Gary Fisher Hoo Koo e Koo (it’s a mountain bike look it up) and a company financed 2-way train pass until I am able to find a suitable replacement that I can purchase for the settlement amount.

51 minutes? That’s the time it takes the 902 to get from Reamwood (really I am not making that up) to Bascom or the reverse.

Last Friday was my trial run. It was raining and my Fisher was in no shape to ride. My wife, Kris, dropped me off and within 5 minutes I was winding down Tasman towards First Street. A quick right and down First to the SJ Convention Center, a little jog around the SJ Diridon station and three stops later Bob’s-your-uncle I am dropped off a mere ½ mile from work. Total distance traveled from home: about 13 miles at just under 4 minutes per mile. I walked in the rain from Bascom station to my employer, an internet startup of no consequence to this story whose name sounds like “schmeeeee-bay”, and arrived sufficiently early. “I can do this”, I thought. “I can fix up the Hoo Koo, get a train pass and save some trees while I wait to get a replacement for my beloved Bruce” (it was an Outback you see).

So I did.

Saturday I bought chain oil, two new inner tubes and a $5 set of those 3 tire prying wrench goo-gaws you use to replace inner tubes. Had never so much as thought about changing an inner tube in my life so it was a surprise when it all went smoothly.

Up and out on Monday morning. Kris made sure I had a yellow rain slicker on and a garbage bag down the back of my pants to avoid anything kicked up by the tires of my suddenly spry HKeK. Off I went through the neighborhood, up and over the creek that separates Sunnyvale and Santa Clara and North on the bike path on the SC side that takes you right to Reamwood Station. It’s less than a mile from my front door. It took me at least 7 minutes to ride it. First day, new legs, I know I will get better. Once on the car I got the bike in and hung up and just like that I was at work before you know it. It was on the trip home that I met her and her quest for Walnut Creek, and right then I decided to start a log of my daily 51 minutes on the 902. I will iPhone it in, both directions, every day as long as it takes before I hang up the bike and take to whatever new wheels the maker has in store for me.

But before I start my trip, I have to clear my conscience. To get to Walnut Creek you have to go back to where you got on, go the other direction (South in this case) and take a North bound (probably Sacramento) Amtrak train from SJ Diridon. At the end there is a bus involved but this is the best I can do for you. Good luck, I hope that rose gets to where it’s going and for the love of all that’s holy, put on a jacket.